The mist in the hills
weighs heavily on my heart
The wind through the valley
blows bleakly on my brain
The rain from the grey
drips doggedly on my dreams.
.
.
.
It’s only Wed, but I am exhausted! I’m sure this soggy weather isn’t helping
poem-drain September 23, 2014
Like tepid water
we’re floating in
the faintest current,
flowing toward
a trickling drain
that empties
us into hollow
cavities
in evening.
poem-what they said
While he was dying
the nurses at his bedside
chatted with one another.
When he came back to life
he told them what he heard
and they could not
meet his eyes.
.
.
(true story)
poem- returning September 22, 2014
I tried to
return your letters
once,
but they are
still here,
and the hurt
in your voice
still echoes,
when I unfold
pages.
poem- suspended
I am
caught
between breath,
hovering within a moment,
alive in every cell,
dying a small death
until I’m inhaling
you
me
infinity.
poem-lying September 21, 2014
I wake
to feel you lying
stretched along
the length of me.
I reach out my hand
and find not flesh
but fur.
You have been replaced
by canine devotion.
.
.
.
.
This is an interesting example of ‘living poetry.’ People ask how I can come up with a poem every day, and I say I see them everywhere. This morning, completely dazed with sleep, this happened, I muzzily composed this poem as I reflected on the surprise, and then fell back to sleep. When I finally got up, there it was, ready to share.
poem-considerations September 20, 2014
Between you and me,
there is respect,
and respect has room
for secrets.
But let there be
no lies
between you and me,
for what lies
between us
is going to be
growing
timelessly.
.
.
.
Another #Outlander poem.
Re: ch 15
(I confess, I missed this speech in ep 107. I trust it will show up eventually).
Shawn L. Bird 